A Cruel Thing is War
by SageK
Summary: Picks up where 2x06 ends
1. Chapter 1

A day that had begun with such hope ended in the specter of death and loss. Lines once drawn crumbled as the reality of their circumstances settled upon Erica Evans's shoulders, heavy like the burden of leadership Eli Cohen had passed on to her.

Standing, bruised and battered, in a small, dank basement, she declared all out war on a vastly superior enemy and the three men before her - the mercenary, the reporter, the priest -, resolved to follow her. Every one of them had to know there was little chance they'd survive the coming battle, but each was willing to give his all.

It was all anyone could ask of them.

Tomorrow, she'd try to contact John Fierro, let him know to pass on the word to the other members of the Fifth Column, but for tonight, it was just the four of them.

Kyle Hobbs, who had spent much of his life fighting for whomever paid him best, had finally found a cause worth fighting for. He'd been urging her to act for some time, but she'd been reticent. No more. The leash was off.

Chad Decker, their newest recruit, was clearly terrified, but he'd seen enough to know he had to take a stand. As Anna's favored member of the media, his access to her could prove invaluable.

Father Jack Landry, her first, most trusted ally in this fight. Like her, he'd been slow to accept the necessity of taking the fight to Anna, but she knew he'd back her play. Knew he'd take up arms and be a soldier again to defend those who couldn't or wouldn't.

Each of them had a moment of clarity that night, knowing that the conflict that had been brewing for the last several months was about to come to a head.

Considering the day she'd had, it was no surprise that, once she'd passed along her decision, she felt like falling over. Every part of her body hurt and she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to remain steady on her feet.

"All right," she said, breaking the silence that had followed their little call to arms. "Fierro knows to contact one of us. I don't think there's much else we can do tonight, so I say we meet up again tomorrow. Someone let Sidney know and we'll try to come up with a plan of attack."

There. That sounded appropriately leader-ish and not at all like she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Which she just might do once she got back to her empty house. In fact, trying to avoid that had been why she'd come here tonight in the first place.

"Sounds like a plan," Hobbes said and Chad merely nodded.

Jack offered a kind smile and said, "I'll walk you out."

She nodded, grateful for the warm, supportive hand that found its way to the small of her back as they climbed the stairs.

The night air was cool on her bruised face and she took a bracing breath. In the sky, she could see the ominous outline of the Visitor's ship hovering some distance away, marring the skyline of the city.

Beside her, Jack took her hand, his presence echoing earlier pose, as they sat shocked, on a rooftop, realizing their lives had been suddenly and irrevocably changed forever.

They'd had no idea how prescient they'd been.

She shivered and she felt Jack shift, then release her hand. Turning, she opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he wrapped his worn leather jacket around her before she got a word out.

When she'd stumbled out of her house, she'd been numb, not feeling the chill of the night air, but now her old sweatshirt didn't seem nearly warm enough. Jack's coat retained his lingering body heat and, as she pulled it close around herself, she smelled the hint of Dove soap, old books and tea that always seemed to be mixed with the scent of his skin.

It was comforting.

"Can you stay with me tonight?" she asked, hating to sound even the slightest bit weak, but this was Jack. He was the person she could break down in front of. He was the person who wouldn't judge her.

His hand returned to hers and he replied, "Of course."

She felt drained and barely noticed Jack wave to Chad, who was waiting in his own car. Erica wondered about that for a moment before realizing he must have given Jack a ride to Hobbes's place.

Reaching her SUV, she patted her pockets, searching for the keys. "I know I had them," she said absently and Jack leaned past her, opening the door. The keys dangled from the ignition and she blinked at them for a moment before turning to Jack. "You drive, okay?"

He nodded, walking her around to the passengers side and settling her in. Normally, she wouldn't have accepted the help, but tonight it was a welcome change.

The drive home was quiet and she let her eyes close, hoping her all too active brain would take the hint, but no. Random thoughts and questions continued to filter through her head.

If she hadn't called Joe on Tyler's birthday, would he still be alive?

Could she really lead a world wide rebellion?

Would her son survive the coming battle? Would he take part in it and, if her did, what side would he be on?

Actually, she was pretty sure she knew the answer to that one.

What did Anna want with them?

Would Jack get in trouble for not returning to the rectory tonight? They'd been friends for months, but she still didn't really know much about the rules priests lived by.

Except, you know, the big rule.

By this point, considering he'd gone against the Vatican's policy and spoken out against the V's, perhaps Jack figured he simply couldn't irritate them any more than he already had.

At some point, she must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew, there was a gentle hand on her arm and Jack was saying, "Erica, we're here."

She blinked and shook her head to clear the cobwebs. That wasn't one of her better ideas, as the action woke the multitude of strained muscles and bruises. If anything, she felt worse now than she had before her brief nap.

They made their way up the darkened walkway and, after a brief fumble at the door, she got the key in the lock. Knowing Jack wouldn't take offense at her lack of hospitality, she simply wandered silently into the house, leaving him to lock the door as she gingerly climbed the stairs.

It was slow going. Her muscles burned and the normally short staircase now seemed an unimaginable obstacle to surmount. Half way up, Jack joined her and she swayed, back resting partially against his chest. One of his hands gripped her waist and the other found her hand. Together, they finished the journey to her room and she more or less collapsed on the bed, on top of the covers.

Physically, she was just done.

Though she knew she'd regret it in the morning, she considered simply allowing herself to sink into oblivion then and there. Jack's coat was warm and soft, still wrapped around her, but neither her jeans or sneakers would be very comfortable to sleep in.

It seemed Jack had the same idea, because, before she could move, she felt his fingers working on the messily knotted laces. She shifted slightly, turning her head so she could see him, kneeling beside the bed and removing her shoes.

She _could_ do it for herself, but in that moment, the fact that she _didn't have to _was a massive relief. Jack knew she was strong, never seemed put off by that fact, but he was willing to take care of her in this moment when she so needed someone.

Once that task was accomplished, he stood and reached for her, helping her sit up. And tossing his jacket onto the chair in the corner. She peered up at him as he paused, seemingly unsure of how to proceed.

Later, she might feel embarrassed, eh thought, but at present she had nothing to spare for that emotion. With numb fingers, she popped the button at the waist of her jeans and lowered the zipper before wriggling them down her hips. From there, Jack pulled them down her legs and they joined his coat on the chair.

He folded down the blankets and guided her under them, tucking her in. She couldn't recall the last time anyone had done that for her and she closed her eyes, leaning into his hand as he brushed the hair back from her face.

After a few minutes, he shifted and she opened her eyes. He hadn't left, but simply taken a seat on the floor beside the bed, leaning back against the mattress. That couldn't be comfortable.

This time, she startled him as her fingers brushed through his sandy hair, but he settled as she simply rested her hand there, keeping a connection between them.

The clock tick echoed loud in the silent house, as did her voice when she asked, "Stay with me?"

"I am," he replied, and it was then that she realized he meant to stay the night there, on the floor. She'd assumed he'd intended to wait until she fell asleep and then move to one of the other beds, or a couch downstairs.

She should have known he wouldn't leave her.

"Can't sleep on the floor," she murmured and let her hand drift from his hair to his shoulder, bunching in the material of his shirt and giving a weak tug. "Get up here."

He turned and his eyes were so close, startlingly blue in the shaft of moonlight that filtered in through the drapes. "I'm fine…." he began, but she cut him off.

"How'm I supposed to sleep, knowing you're on the floor?" she hoped he'd give in soon, as she really didn't have the energy to argue. Still, she couldn't bring herself to ask him to climb into her bed and hold her.

Those eyes studied her and, finally, he nodded, rising slowly , making his way around to the other side of the bed. He sat on the edge and bent to remove his boots. He unbuttoned his blue shirt and shrugged it off, but left his jeans and white t-shirt in place.

Seeing the wheels moving in his head, she flipped down the covers before he could lie on top of them. He slid into the bed beside her, on his back and a bit stiff. Clearly, he was even more unused to sharing a bed than she was, which, duh, obviously.

Still, he was here, with her because she had asked him to be.

Slowly, she inched backwards towards him and, proving once again that he understood her, Jack turned onto his side and wrapped an arm loosely around her. Thankful, she gripped his hand and sank back against him, taking comfort in the steady beat of his heart and his warm, familiar presence.

Wrapped in his arms, she finally succumbed to real sleep and the seemingly endless day finally came to a close.

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Comments, pretty please?


	2. Chapter 2

When your first coherent thought of the day was '_Ow_!', you could usually assume it was going to be one of _those_ days. Erica fought her way back to consciousness through a haze of muscle aches and the sting of stitched wounds.

The second thing that registered was the fact that she wasn't alone. A split second of panic hit before she remembered asking Jack to stay and his timid capitulation to her wish.

Lying there in the early morning light, Erica reflected on the absurdity of things. Here she was, curled up in bed with a priest (he was more or less fully clothed, but still!), a man with whom she shared a mutual attraction and affection. Her son had packed his bags and moved to an alien spaceship as soon as his father died (a result of something the aliens did), because apparently he didn't consider her enough of a family for him. He preferred his girlfriend (whom Erica could admit was a lovely girl) and her secretly evil mother.

That wasn't even mentioning the perfect storm of irony that was her professional life. She was the head of the FBI's Fifth Column Task Force, assigned to hunt down the terrorists…and also head of the Fifth Column here on Earth.

You know what? It was barely 7am. Her ex-husband (who she still cared for) had died in her arms the day before. She was not ready to deal with anything just yet.

Nope. She was going to lie in bed for a while. Jack's arms were reassuring, wrapped around her and his chest was warm against her back. One of his denim clad thighs had wound up between her bare legs as they slept and she was surprised by how soft the fabric felt.

The hair on the back of her neck stirred under his slow, even breath and she allowed herself to enjoy the sensation. It was a little thing, but one she found oddly intimate. Probably because you had to be in a fairly intimate position in order to achieve the proper angle….

Usually, her thought process was more collected, but between the physical and emotional trauma of the previous day and the fact that they'd crawled into bed less than four hours ago…yeah, she was feeling a little scattered.

Deciding she'd earned a little indulgence, she shifted slightly, tucking herself closer to Jack's frame. It might be a cliché, but it was very nice to be held.

Behind her, Jack reacted to her movement, arms tightening as though assuring his sleeping mind that she wasn't leaving. He let out a sleepy, snuffling noise that made her smile and draw a breath as he buried his face in his hair.

She was about to drift back to sleep when she heard a phone ringing. It wasn't her ring tone though and she was momentarily confused. Then Jack groaned and muttered, "Sorry."

When he disentangled their bodies, she lay there mourning the loss of his embrace and warmth. Rolling onto her side, she watched him fish his cell phone out of a jacket pocket.

"Molly, hey."

_Molly? Who was Molly_?

"I know, I know, I should have called…Oh. You spoke to Father Travis?…Things got busy yesterday…Are you still at St. Josephine's?…Could you go back in and grab my things from my office?…Thanks…Your place? I'm with a friend…Molly Marie!…I'll call you later…Stop glaring at him…Bye."

He hung up and dropped the phone back down onto the chair before turning back to face Erica. He looked a bit sheepish as he said, "Sorry about that."

Curious, she asked, "Who's Molly?"

Best build up to the harder questions, like why was Molly taking his things to her place? Erica knew she had no real grounds for jealousy, but there it was, The Green Eyed Monster, rearing its ugly head.

"My niece," Jack replied fondly, slaying the monster without even realizing he'd done so. "We meet to go for a run at 6 and I wasn't there, so she dropped by the rectory to check up on me. I wasn't there, so she called."

That made sense. She nodded and worried her lip for a moment before asking, "And…the other stuff?"

Jack let out a sigh and dropped his head and she was struck by the sight of him, so achingly human and present in a sleep rumpled t-shirt and jeans, barefoot, standing in the warm golden sunlight that filtered in through the drapes.

She wanted to tell him to forget everything else and climb back into bed with her. Just for a while, they could pretend their crazy lives didn't exist. Just for a while they could take comfort in each other as though they were unaware of the impending war.

But he was who he was. A priest. Sure, he'd slept beside her, held her through the night, but that was one thing and what she wished they could do was another thing all together.

It didn't matter that she was pretty sure he shared her wish.

"Before I saw the news about the hostage situation, I'd packed because…" He paused to take a deep breath and scrub a hand over his face before looking up and meeting her eyes. "I received word yesterday morning that I'd been laicized. Travis gave me till the end of the week to be out of the rectory, but I figured why prolong things….."

His voice broke a little and it was clear that he was trying to pretend like he was all right with this turn of events. She knew better.

"Oh, Jack," she said, kicking her legs free of the comforter - Wow, that bruise on her knee was turning out to bee pretty impressive -, she rose from the bed and circled around to pull him into a hug. One hand cupping the back of his neck, she let her cheek rest on his shoulder as she asked, "Are you okay?"

Careful so as not to aggravate any of her injuries, he returned the embrace and let his cheek rest against her head. "I was fairly well prepared for it," he said slowly. "They'd made the church's position clear and I defied orders, so I knew there'd be consequences."

"But are _you_ okay?" He'd given an answer, but it had been impersonal. She wanted to know how he was feeling.

"A little bit at a loss, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be," he replied, pulling back enough to look at her. "I still have my faith and I'm doing something that I know is right, so I feel a sense of purpose."

Erica had the feeling he wasn't really ready to discuss his feelings about being laicized just yet - heck, he probably wouldn't have mentioned it if his niece hadn't called -, so she didn't push him on it any more. "We need you," she assured him, biting her lips to keep from saying _I need you_.

He still knew what she meant. "It's not like I never thought about leaving the church," he mused, reaching up to brush her hair off her face and peer at the stitched gash on her right cheekbone. "After Iraq, I never stopped questioning myself. It's why I was reluctant to get involved with the rebellion initially. I wanted to avoid conflict, and then there was…."

His voice trailed off an she felt the rough pads of his fingers graze her skin, gently probing the wound. It was a strange sensation, both pleasant and a little painful, like a deep tissue massage, but he was barely using any pressure. "And then there was what?"

She couldn't help but ask that question.

"Temptation," he replied softly, cheeks tingeing pink as he looked away, clearly bashful about admitting that.

This was _so_ not the time to be doing this. She was emotionally thrown by Joe's death and Tyler's abandonment and Jack was dealing with being stripped of his priesthood. Not exactly a stable time for either of them. But they were living in a world where there might not be a tomorrow for either of them.

It was nice to feel needed, wanted. She was sure he agreed. Turning her head, she turned her cheek to rest the side of her face in his palm and he gently touched his brow to hers, careful of her various cuts and bruises.

At that moment, she didn't give a damn about her aches and pains, but her body was making something else very clear. Though she really didn't want to say anything, she had no choice. "Jack," she said softly, taking a breath as his nose brushed hers in the softest way. "I hate to say this, but…I really have to use the bathroom."

She felt his smile bloom and the chuckle rumble through his chest. "Me too," he admitted, smiling as he released her somewhat reluctantly. "I think we were both too tired to worry about that last night."

Nodding, she waved her hand. "You can use the one off the hall, while I use mine…but come back after. Four hours of sleep is nowhere near enough."

She knew that might have been a bit babbly, but it seemed to get her point across.

After finishing in the bathroom, she looked at he reflection and cringed. The bruises had really bloomed over night, littering her face in patches of blues, purples and reds. There was still some blood crusted around her right nostril and her unbruised skin was ghostly pale. It always amazed her how her hair could become such a rats nest, even when she wasn't tossing and turning.

Yeah, she wasn't exactly at her best and, after splashing water on her face, brushing her teeth and tugging a brush through her hair, she decided it was as good as it was going to get. She shucked her sweatshirt, which was feeling hot and icky from being worn to bed. A knee length, soft cotton tank style nightgown was hanging on the back of the door and, after using some baby wipes to feel cleaner, she slid it on.

Opening the bathroom door, she found Jack had already made his way back from the other bathroom. He was sitting on the far edge of the bed, slightly hunched over with his elbows on his knees. His white t-shirt was pulled tight across his broad shoulders and hit had bunched up slightly, revealing a strip of lightly tanned skin above the waist of his jeans.

The jeans. She wished she had something else to give him to wear. Offering him a pair of Tyler's sweatpants….no, that would be all kinds of weird and wrong.

Hell, he probably had on boxers but was just too shy to ditch the heavy denim. She'd have to broach the subject.

When she settled down on her side of the bed, he turned to face her, eyes tracking to the newly revealed bruises on her arms. Before she lost her nerve, she said, "It can't be comfortable sleeping in those jeans. We're both adults. You can take them off."

Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, that had not been it. His eyes popped wide and he looked so startled that she quickly added, "You don't have too! I was just thinking that I hate sleeping in jeans, but if you're okay…."

He nodded a little and said, "No, you're right. I just…I'll do that."

Standing, he stepped toward the chair, hands going to his waist. He turned, peering at her over his shoulder and she could see he'd gone pink again. Then she realized she was sitting there, staring at him as he prepared to take his pants off. That was clearly unnerving him.

"Sorry," she said, averting her eyes. She hadn't meant to stare…it had just seemed to happen.

The sound of the zipper was loud in the quiet room and she heard the denim rustle, then his footsteps back to the bed, which dipped as he sat on the other side.

She was startled by the gentle fingers ghosting across her shoulder and down her arm. She turned to meet his concerned gaze. "We really should ice some of these bruises," he said, thumb brushing the unblemished crook of her elbow and she shivered, a combination of sensation and the thought of ice.

"Later," she agreed, scooting down to lie facing him and he did the same, pulling the sheet and comforter up over them.

It should have been strange, sharing a bed with him now that she was feeling more centered and less desperate to know he was close by, but it wasn't. Sure, there was a little awkwardness, but that was mostly due to the priest issue. Not that it applied anymore…or did it? She really didn't know how that worked.

Having Jack with her seemed right. In a world of complexity, it was a simple truth. They'd been inextricably linked since that first night on a cold rooftop, before they'd even know each other, they'd had a connection. She didn't know how she'd have managed if he hadn't shown up outside her office after hearing the V's were being allowed to visit Earth, deciding he couldn't avoid the fight.

It had only been a few months ago and yet it seemed like ages had passed.

If you counted time in terms of major life events, she supposed ages had passed.

Her expression must have mirrored her less than happy thoughts, because Jack chose to gather her in his arms and stroke her back soothingly. She grasped his shoulders, holding him tight and letting her legs tangle with his.

In the early morning light, there was a little peace for each of them, before reality would set in again.

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